Fury
by Nokomiss
Summary: He was sure that he had found his true love again. She was terrified of the stranger who had taken her from her home. Only one would survive. --complete--


Fury

  


Disclaimer: This is set loosely in LJ Smith's universe. 

  


Author's Notes: Thank you for reading! This is the first thing LJ Smith-y I've done in a long while, and hopefully it's an improvement on the early stuff I did. Onto the story...

  


**

  


"Would you die for me?"

  


"Never, my dear."

  


And that summed up the relationship. Fabled true love and stars and moonlight and the truthful confession that one life is more valuable than another when its your life on the line.

  


There was nothing more to say.

  


Or was there? She never hoped for the fabled true love, and now that she'd received it, or rather, was on the receiving end of it, wasn't sure that it had ever truly existed at all. The stars and moonlight are all well and good in romantic poems and dreamy songs, but when you actually end up bathed only under them, and not the sun's hopeful rays, you learn that silver streams of moonlight only light up the most obvious of features on the face of the earth. 

  


The little things that light fails to reveal are still hidden in the dark, and she had never been comfortable with mysteries. 

  


They had met during a storm. The lightning flashed outside, and rain poured down, and the thunder roared furiously at the unfair universe. They also had ended during a storm. During this ending, eyes flashed, and tears poured, and he'd roared at the unfair universe furiously. All in all, they were a storm unto their own, though it had taken a while to discover this.

  


He was nature's fury, not at all docile or silent or bright, but instead immersing the entire world with who he was, and if the world didn't like that, well then the world knew what it could do with itself.

  


She was the rain that poured, sometimes in the light, sometimes in the dark, but always steady and reliable and could make you feel comfortable. Sometimes pure, sometimes polluted, almost always crystal clear.

  


She feared the fury, and he hated the rain.

  


She had been normal, once. She had owned a puppy, and watched corny movies, and went shopping with her friends. Then came the day when she lost the normalcy that she never knew she cherished.

  


There had been a rainstorm, and she had decided to take a walk, and appreciate the heady sweetness that fell across the world after the cleansing rain. There had been a rainbow, faint in the distance, and she had stopped to admire the purity of color when she saw him.

  


He obviously did not run in her social circles, and as far as she could tell, she had never even seen him around town. He wore the dark clothing of the chosen outcasts, the kids who strove to be different and remarkable but hated for attention to be brought to their appearance. He was standing in the shadow of a great hulking oak, which had obviously withstood the trials of many eras that she had never seen and would withstand many more than she ever would.

  


Strange how the boy and tree were similar.

  


She now wishes she had chosen the oak to talk to, because surely that would have been the cause of no heartache or misery or pain. But then she did not have the experiences she did now, and in no way was she a prophetess, so she spoke to the boy instead.

  


"Hi."

  


He did not turn to acknowledge her, nor did he answer in the traditional manner. He turned his face to the sky, which was still crowded with pale gray clouds, and the glimmer of the sun straining through the thick veil of the atmosphere, and said, " It will storm tonight."

  


Oh, if she had only known how true those words would turn out to be. If only she had known to turn back then, before she was caught up in the hopeless carousel ride, stuck spinning and hitting highs and lows with no hope for escape, trapped alone, watching the world whirl by. If only she had known before there was no way out save the final and most extreme. If only.

  


Instead, she guilelessly glanced up at the sky, heavy with clouds and darkened to a premature twilight, and replied, "I love storms."

  


That was their first interaction. What she considered their first meeting was later that evening, during the true storm the afternoon skies had promised. She had returned to her home, filled with her puppy and buttercups and cheerful, sunny posters, and had settled herself into the bay window that dominated the living room. She had sat there, and watched as the lightning shared its glory with the landscape, illuminating it in brilliant flashes as the thunder groaned its world weary complaints.

  


She then allowed her mind to drift, and soon thoughts of deeds to be done and things to be bought had faded away, leaving her alone with the kind of thoughts she tried to avoid, but once they invaded her mind, were impossible to rid herself of. These thoughts had a life their own, and indeed, were of a life of their own. A voice, so like her own, yet subtly different, with an accent Rain didn't have, and using words Rain found outdated, whispered to her. The things it spoke of were horrible, and images of death and eternal darkness and deep ruby blood filled her mind.

  


It warned her of dark creatures, and of one face in particular, the face that she had been shown since childhood, with a strict warning to never speak to any who wore it. It told her the fate she would suffer if she did not heed these warnings, and it told her the fate she would be rewarded with if she did. It told her everything, but in the end may as well have told her nothing for she never remembered any of it. It had warned her for years, and she always pushed it as far into the back of her mind as possible, and chose to forget it instead.

  


She watched, and watched still as the world echoed with the fury of the storm, only to slowly come to the realization the she was not alone. There was a shadowy reflection in the window she was looking out, a dark spot reflected in her living room where there should only be soft colors. Someone was invading her home. She froze, wondering what she should do, wondering whether or not she should turn around to face the intruder, or remain still, acting as though she were oblivious to the intrusion. 

  


Finally, after eons, ages, minutes, she decided that the intruder would notice her regardless of where she was looking, and that playing ostrich was futile. She sent up a quick prayer, hoping that the intruder would wish her no harm, or inflict harm on her in any way. Then, slowly, she turned around to face whoever had trespassed her sanctuary, and, to her immense surprise, recognized the face. 

  


For she was the rain that poured, soaking the universe in its embrace, and he was the fury that unleashed lightning terror and thunder kisses on the unsuspecting earth.

  


The intruder of her home, the stranger amongst the familiar, was Fury, the strange boy still dressed in that black of voluntary mourning, who was dripping water on to the hardwood floor of her living room. He was facing her, and had obviously been watching her as she made those agonizing decisions of whether or not to turn to face him.

  


Rain rose, and stood to face him, noticing vaguely that he in his dark glory clashed horribly with the cheerful pastel of her home. He clashed with her. But there he stood, looking unreal as a ghost, but surely as solid as she. They faced one another silently, until Rain noticed a slight shift in his posture, and she realized that he was going to attack her.

  


That just didn't happen. People don't show up in your home to attack you. That sort of thing only happens on television, or in the movies. Nobody actually ever had to deal with the situation themselves. That was why it was never covered in classes, and why there was no protocol for behavior. It didn't happen. It doesn't fit in with the scheme of everyday life.

  


Then again, when did she ever fit in with the scheme of everyday life?

  


That, of course, didn't make this intruder any less there. Whether or not she was typical by everyone else's standards played no role in this situation. So what if she didn't really like the pale blandness of her home? It fit in with what everyone else thought was normal. She was normal. That was what she strived for, what she had achieved. And now, this stranger was threatening that security, without even having to say a word. Just a threatening pose, and she was questioning the very thing she had worked so very hard for.

  


On the other hand, maybe he wasn't who she feared him to be. Maybe he was just a petty thief who'd been startled to find someone at home. All her lights were out, weren't they? It would be easy to mistake this for an empty house. Of course. Maybe he was just a random crazy who had wandered in off the highway. It was just a few miles away, it was completely possible. She just knew he was crazy. He had to be. You'd have to be crazy to break into someone's home, then stand there about to attack, right? 

  


Maybe if she offered him some nice Prozac, he would realize that he wasn't wanted here and leave. Perhaps she should just ask him nicely to leave, or claim that she was a black belt in some obscure martial art. She could even pick up the lamp that sat on the side table next to her, it was pretty heavy, ans threaten him with that. It might frighten him away, and then she could be normal and safe again.

  


She decided at the last moment not to try any of these things on him, because you don't antagonize the dog that is straining to bite you, nor do you stick your hand in the fire to see if it burns. That, it seemed, was exactly what she was trying to do, though, she reached out towards Fury, and stepped closer.

  


Maybe she was the one crazier than a loon.

  


Fury stepped closer to her.

  


She didn't move back.

  


There was no doubt about it, she was crazy. Maybe purple elephants and giant lobsters would start to dance a polka for her. Maybe even in tutus. That would at least provide entertainment for what was undoubtedly her last moments on earth. 

  


Strangely enough, her hallucinations seemed to go more along the lines of the boy, Fury, looking at her peculiarly and then taking a step back. Because there was no way on God's green Earth that had just happened. She would be feeling the final throes of death at any moment now. Yep, at any time now. Maybe now, or now, sometime soon, surely.

  


"You aren't dying."

  


Now she was imagining that, she had to be. But, as she looked up at Fury, he was still in the same position. They were standing several feet apart, facing one another. Fury still wore a perplexed expression, as though she had done some sort of quaint trick. Rain was confused, and her expression mimicked her thoughts, flitting back and forth between fear, vague amusement, and near-insanity.

  


"Why are you here?" She asked finally, becoming uncomfortable with the heavy staring match she was involved in.

He shrugged, and flashed a brilliant smile in her direction. Then he continued to stand there. Doing nothing. Saying nothing. He seemed to be in some sort of limbo, just standing there like that. 

  


"Say something!" Rain yelled, unable to cope with the stranger's stoic silence any longer. 

  


"Hello, my dear." Fury replied, a smile crossing his features.

  


'I'm not your deer. Do I look like I should have antlers and be shot for sport?" Rain snapped. She was growing angry. Well, all truth be told, she'd passed the sign for angry around the same time he'd broken into her home, and was now speeding towards incensed. Her initial terror had faded to a dull shriek in the back of her mind, and she was now acting on raw fury. She lunged towards Fury with a complete lack of grace, and smacked against him, planning on taking him out as soon as he fell over from the impact of her weight.

  


Unfortunately for her, he didn't fall. 

  


Also unfortunately for her, she did.

  


It was while she was lying in a heap at Fury's feet that she realized how completely stupid the entire idea had been. He was larger than her, stronger, and he might have weapons on him. He obviously had no scruples, being as he was in her home uninvited, and she had no clue what his motives were. Her anger slid away from her like a snake shedding an old skin, and the terror she had felt at first returned full force. 

  


Fury reached down, and lifted her by the neck with amazing strength. Something in the back of her mind was yelling that it was too amazing, that he lifted her with too much ease, that he was subtly different from her, and everyone else she knew, that he wasn't exactly human.

  


As she stared at him, with cold arrogance the only expression on his face, with those eyes that screamed warnings of unimaginable danger at her, she believed it. This boy was not human, he was something else. His grip tightened around her neck, and she feared for the bones and tendons there, which seemed so strong before, but were now creaking and hurting and seemed more delicate than twigs. At that moment, Rain decided that she did not want to find out what he really was.

  


He dropped her suddenly, without a shred of decorum, and she found herself in a heap on the floor for the second time in less than five minutes. She touched her throat gently, it ached more than she would have imagined, and could only cringe as she realized how easily he could have snapped her neck. She did not exactly quake with fear, but she came pretty close. She rose to her feet shakily, and stared at Fury with new respect. 

  


"That wasn't a very smart move, little girl." Fury said, still all smiles, but now she could detect the hidden power in his stance. He hadn't moved an inch since his attack on her, and now he looked at her with such arrogance that for a long moment Rain thought she would forget her pain, loose her newfound sense, and lunge after him again. "That might have gotten you killed, on any other day."

  


"Why is today different, then?" Rain couldn't stop herself from asking.

  


Fury smiled, yet again, before offering her an answer. "Because, my dear, I think you are different."

  


"You don't even know me. And why do you call me 'my dear'?"

  


"That's what I have always called you."

  


That was the moment that Rain realized that she was dealing with a first class maniac. She made a valiant attempt to keep her expression neutral as she said, in what she hoped was an idle tone, "I don't recall ever meeting you before."

  


He simply crocked his head to the side, and replied, "You haven't."

  


"Then how...?" Rain asked vaguely, completely confounded by the intruder.

  


Fury, however, decided that she was not important enough to share the logic with, and he turned away, inspecting her belongings. Rain stared at him with unabated curiosity. Was he going to retaliate against her? Would he kill her? She could not even begin to guess. Everything predictable about her life had flown out the window the second he had shown up. She almost wished that he would do something, anything, just so that she would no longer be in this awful suspense about what would happen to her.

  


"Leave here. Please." She decided to be polite, at the very least, so that he wouldn't have any reason to attack again. No sense in provoking him.

  


"I can't do that." He replied. 

  


"Why?" she said imploringly.

  


"You know why." he replied, and for a brief moment, she did know why. The answer glimmered in the front of her mind, and it was so obvious now, and it tied everything from her life together. She had the answer. But quickly as it had come, it escaped back to its hiding place deep in her subconscious, and though she momentarily wished for that wonderful understanding to return, she knew she was happier living in ignorance.

  


He was inspecting a portrait on her mantle when Rain finally gained the presence of mind to ask the question that had been plaguing her since he's arrived in her living room.

  


"What are you doing in my house?" Please, just give me a straight answer, she silently pleaded.

  


"Looking at this perplexing photograph. I know that one is you," he said, jabbing at the pale blond figure in the center, "But who are those people? You can't tell me that you have friends."

  


Had Fury been anyone else, she would have snatched the picture frame from him and hit him upside the head with it. She had half a mind to do so anyway. But there was something off about Fury, and it made her nervous. 

  


"As a matter of fact, I do." Rain replied with as much dignity that she could muster.

  


"Would they notice if you were gone?" Fury seemed serious as he asked this question. Rain considered lying to him, saying that they would notice in a heartbeat that she was missing, but she knew this to be a lie. She had grown away from them lately, due to her snappish nature after dreaming strange dreams every night. She decided to avoid the question.

  


"Would you please leave?" Rain ventured, hoping against hope that he would.

  


A patronizing look was shot in her direction. It hit her with force like she had never felt before, and she stood shock-still for several long moments before registering what he was saying. It was familiar. She had seen that look before.

  


"As soon as you're packed."

  


What? Could she have heard right? Maybe the shock of recognition that she had just felt had affected her hearing.

  


"What?" She yelped out loud.

  


"You heard me. Go, pack only the necessities, I'll provide you with everything you dream of later." She stared dumbly at him. 

  


"That wasn't a suggestion, you know." He snarled at her. "Go. Now. We're leaving here."

  


"But..." She protested weakly. "I don't want to go. I have a life. I have a puppy. He needs someone to feed him, and take him out..."

  


"Go. Pack. Now." Fury growled, and Rain again felt that odd something that had made her hesitate earlier. She couldn't do anything but comply, she told herself resignedly. She had no choice in the matter. Her fate was decided. 

  


No matter how much she wished it to be uncertain as it has been an hour ago.

  


So, she went to her room, and stared blankly at her closet. What do you take when you know you will never return? She dug out her largest duffel bag, and began to pick out her favorite clothes, and a few sensible things, and of course her favorite boots. She found her photo album, and crammed every slot with as many pictures as they would hold, then began sticking photos of her family and friends in between pages, until the book was filled to the point of bursting. 

  


Money and jewelry she put in a velvet bag, and this too made its way to the duffel bag. She surveyed her room one last time, wondering what she missed that would stab at her heart as soon as she realized it was gone. There was a little space left in her bag, for one more thing...

  


Her stuffed panda sat forlornly on the windowsill. She'd had it since early childhood, and now smiled as she picked up the soft bear. It smelled faintly of her mother, and of her, and of safety and security. She stuffed the animal in her duffel bag, and zipped it up with an air of finality. 

  


She was being kidnaped.

  


Taken from her home against her will.

  


There was nothing anyone could do about it.

  


She would never see this place again.

  


She was doomed.

  


And with these foreboding, and somewhat accurate, thoughts, Rain allowed herself to be lead out of her home into the storm that enveloped the outside world.

  


As soon as she left the warmth and security that her house emitted even during times of distress, she realized how easy she was making this kidnaping on Fury. She'd only fought once, during that ill-fated initial attack, and had been lead around like a puppy since. She'd packed her bag, and not included one single weapon. Instead, she'd filled her bag with clothes and memorabilia, rather than the hunting knife her father had given her, or the mace her mother had presented her with when she'd moved out. Mace her mother had given her to use during situations like this. 

  


Lord, she was a fool.

  


She could only hope that her lack of actions wouldn't get her killed. Maybe they would save her. Maybe Fury would let her go once he realized what a pushover she was.

  


Yeah. And maybe pigs will fly.

  


Rain followed Fury to a sleek black car that sat in her driveway. It looked completely innocuous behind her dusty white car, and clashed with the environment the same way that Fury did. It was like the car and it's owner were the only color in a black and white world. 

  


She threw her bag in the trunk after he opened it for her, and again cursed her lack of foresight. What importance were memories when she had no future? Some might say that then memories were everything, but she disagreed. She'd trade every memory in her brain to be away from him, back in her house, staring carefree into the rain that now soaked her plumb through to the bone. She climbed in the passenger side when the door unlocked, and stared out the window at home, already missing it, though she was still in the driveway.

  


And with not so much as a word, Fury threw the car in reverse and flew out of the driveway, taking off and not looking back.

  


To Rain, the scenery, at first familiar, then whirling into unfamiliar, and then into strange, was no more real than a video game, like the racing ones she'd fancied in her youth. In her adulthood, also, if truth be told. She didn't bother to read the road signs as they whizzed by, and could care less when Fury announced the passing of another state. The periodic stops at gas stations and roadside diners hardly registered, and she never even noticed when the night fell. 

  


Fury didn't stop for the darkness. Instead, he sped up, seeming to revel in the pure black of the moonless night. As exhaustion finally began to take her into its hold, she drifted into a light slumber after an eternity's worth of staring out the window, watching lights and signs zoom past. 

  


Rain was standing in the center of a light blue room. There were two other occupants, both disturbingly familiar. She easily recognized Fury. Even though he was dressed in a rather regal suit that would have been more appropriate in an earlier era of majestic regalness, his dark hair and piercing eyes remained the same. He even had the same pale pallor, she noted with faint degree of amusement.

  


The second occupant of the room was what disturbed her. She knew that face, and those pale eyes. She looked at it in the mirror every morning. Oh, there were slight differences, in the lines of the nose, in the curve of the eyebrow, but the similarity was far to close to be written off as coincidence. It was disconcerting to see her familiar blonde locks bound in an intricate hairstyle, and a sweeping gown gracing her body. The clothing and hairstyle were not the only differences between herself and this girl. She had never seen such rage on her own features before. The girl was shrieking, and pounding on Fury's chest with her fists. Then, as Rain watched, the girl broke into helpless sobs, sinking to the floor with her voluminous dress billowing around her.

  


Her broken words finally became clear too Rain. "No, why did you, how could you have done that? I loved them! They were my world. How could you have destroyed that? My family! I may as well be dead, too! I hate you!" The words went on and on, filled with complete anguish that Rain found herself sharing. Tears fell quietly down her cheeks as impressions of people filled her mind. 

  


There were three children, who her mind labeled as siblings. The youngest of the children, and the only girl, was similar in feature to the crying girl, although her blond locks were much lighter in color. She was laughing and playing some sort of tag game with two older boys. The older boy, who was the only dark-haired child, appeared about twelve, while his fair brother appeared a few years younger.

  


A matronly woman smiled as she watched the antics of her children, then looked directly into Rain's eyes, and gave her a look of sorrow. She knew that her children would not be long for the world, and that she had no way to save them. Her eyes pleaded for her oldest child to survive, although she had to know that she would not.

  


Her husband then joined her. He was a robust man with jolly cheeks who looked as sad as his wife. To see such an expression on the face of someone made for happiness tore at Rain, and tears coursed faster down her cheeks. She understood that these people cared for her as much as they did their own daughter, because it was the same thing. She was that girl, the one so distraught over the deaths of her family.

  


That meant that these wonderful people were gone. Those happy children smiled no longer; the sorrowful parents could no longer cry. With a jerk, she returned to the scene in the blue room.

  


Rain watched as Fury argued with the girl who so resembled her. The girl kept asking him to explain why he did the atrocious act, why he had killed her loved ones in cold blood. He simply stared down at her impassively as he informed her, "You were too attached to them. You will see that, in the end, I am always right."

  


Rain shook her head, disagreeing with the boy whose demeanor was so cold his veins had to run with ice, because no warmth could had ever touched his heart. To her vague surprise, she saw the girl mimicking her actions.

  


Fury then struck the defenseless girl. He actually hit that defenseless, broken creature who was pleading with him. Rain watched horrified as the violence built, as the innocent red blood splattered and angry fists grew bruised, until the horrific dance reached its crescendo, and the girl stopped moving at all. No more feeble attempts to block blows, no more cries of pain, and finally, no more rising chest as the most vital of body processes stopped.

  


Rain watched as the earlier girl, who she had been before, died.

  


With a start, Rain awoke. Her face was wet with tears, and she found herself sobbing uncontrollably. She finally regained control of herself, and looked up. 

  


Fury was glancing at her, before turning his eyes back to the road. He looked angry with her. "Why are you crying?"

  


Rain froze. She couldn't tell him the truth, that she had just witnessed him killing a girl in the past. A girl who happened to be her. She wouldn't stand a chance. She opened her mouth, trying to come up with a convincing lie. What came out was, "I was worried about my puppy."

  


Fury didn't look entirely convinced. More words came pouring out of her mouth. "I've never left him alone, you know. And no one knows I'm gone! What if he runs out of water? And the front door wasn't locked. What if someone robs the place? They might kick my puppy! And my mother! She'll be so worried! I usually call on Thursday nights to remind her that her show is coming on. She'll know something is wrong!"

  


Somehow, Rain managed to shut herself up. There was no way that Fury would believe any of that drivel. He would pull over, and throw her out. Worse, he might just throw her out without even slowing down. That would be horrible. She snuck a glance at him. He seemed to be considering what she'd said. 

  


Finally, he spoke. "When we pull over for dinner, I'll let you call your mother and have her feed your dog."

  


Rain sat there in a state of shock for a minute, not believing that he had believed her. What was more, he was going to let her call her mother! She might just be able to get away after all!

  


She finally gained the presence of mind to thank him, and then sat in silence. Finally, something occurred to her. "I thought we already stopped for dinner."

  


"I didn't." he said significantly, and flashed a huge grin at her. Sharp teeth dotted the feral smile, and Rain gasped involuntarily.

  


"So you are..I mean, you aren't exactly..." Rain tried to figure out the best way to ask.

  


"I am a vampire, if that's what you're getting at." Fury seemed to find the conversation amusing.

  


"But...but it was day earlier." Rain stuttered. Sure, she'd thought that he wasn't human, but to have her suspicions confirmed was an entirely different ball game. 

  


"So? Sunlight isn't quite as deadly as the myths would have you believe. And I wouldn't bother with trying to find a cross if I were you." Fury seemed almost amiable as he informed her that myths were real, and she'd been kidnaped by one. 

  


"So...you're going to kill someone for your dinner?" Rain couldn't believe that she had asked that. Maybe her earlier insanity had returned. 

  


"I hope so. Sometimes all I can manage is a sip before someone notices, but usually, yes, I kill people." He sounded so casual. Like talk of murder and cannibalism was a common occurrence.

  


Maybe it was.

  


A little while later they pulled over. Fury climbed out, but motioned for Rain to stay when she began to follow suit. He disappeared into the gas station. Rain sat there for a moment, wondering whether she should stay or if she should try to make a break for it. She looked around for someone to help her. There weren't any cars in the parking lot, and the building itself was the only sign of civilization in sight. She wouldn't stand a chance. If Fury came out, he would spot her immediately. 

  


She could go inside, though. There might be a phone she could use, and she could call the police. But what would she tell them? She had willingly gone with a strange guy, and now she had found out he was a creature of the night, and was currently off feasting on the blood of the innocent? She realized that she had indeed gone with him willingly. No arguing, no fighting. He had told her to pack, and she had gone running for her bag.

  


Maybe it had something to do with her dream. 

  


No! She told herself firmly. It was just a dream. Just random thoughts strung together by a bored subconscious. There was nothing factual in dreams. That girl didn't even look that much like her, anyway. She had been much too pale, and her hair a darker shade of gold. And Fury just had those fake fangs. People got processional caps done all the time. There was nothing to be afraid of. She should just stroll right in that gas station, and ask to use the phone.

  


That's what Rain decided to do. She climbed out of the sleek black car, and crossed the parking lot determinately. She hesitated briefly in front of the door, but decided that she was right. There were no such things as monsters, especially not in this day and age.

  


She pushed open the glass door, and froze in shock immediately.

  


Fury stood entwined with the cashier, whose long brown hair was swept over her right shoulder. Fury, at fist glance, seemed to be kissing her neck, but from Rain's vantage point she could see a thin stream of blood escaping from his mouth, and trinkling down to stain the starched white collar of the woman's uniform. The woman seemed to be whimpering softly in pain, but abruptly, as Rain watched, she stopped.

  


Fury lifted his head from the body, and looked Rain straight in the eye. All thoughts of running escaped her in that moment, as she saw the dark light of the hunter gleaming in his eyes. He would enjoy running her down, ripping her soft pale throat open, and spilling her blood. Her death would give him enjoyment, a deep primal pleasure for that kind of blood sport that humans had long forgotten, but he and his kind still retained.

  


She managed to turn away, and rushed to the car. Fury beat her there. She looked up at him fearfully, noticing a drop of red still clinging to his lower lip. He leaned in closer, and whispered to her, "Believe me now?"

  


She nodded, to scared to speak, and he let her in the car. The night had never seemed more imposing, and the darkness seemed to envelop every aspect of the car. Rain tried to not think about the dead woman, or the fact that she was alone with a murderer. Fury seemed caught up in his thoughts, also, though guilt didn't seem to be a factor. They rode in silence for the rest of the night.

  


Finally, on the following, cloudy day, Fury steered the car onto an off ramp, and they sped along a highway for a short way before turning onto a skinny country road. Several miles later, they turned down a narrow gravel driveway which led them deep into a forest. After what felt like ages, the car pulled to a tiny cul-de-sac in front of a grand log cabin.

  


Rain looked at the four-story monstrosity of log and mortar with fascination. The only cabins she'd ever seen had been the tiny shacks at a summer camp in Maine, never anything like this. Large windows were everywhere, and the entire structure looked slightly eccentric, with angles going every which way. She wondered briefly whether the architect had been drunk or insane, before deciding on both.

  


"Where are we?" Her voice cracked a little with the words. She was still terrified from the sight of Fury killing that woman. She'd never seen death close up before, nobody did these days, other than victims. Was she a victim? Not yet, she supposed. She'd probably know then she was being victimized.

  


"Anywhere. Everywhere. Nowhere." Came the reply from Fury whose voice was as perfect as ever. No sign of a conscious yet. He hadn't even seemed disturbed when he'd dumped the body on the floor of the convenience store. Apparently, murder was a common occurrence in his universe.

  


Rain discovered herself becoming angry with Fury's apathetic attitude. She decided that he was the perfect example of the cold-hearted monster. He was also perfectly infuriating on all counts. Like that answer. He couldn't have simply said, "I'm not going to tell you," now could he. Instead he seemed to enjoy acting mysterious and all in all, too Hollywood-villain for her liking. Then again, maybe Hollywood-villain was what he was going for, what with the whole kidnaping thing.

  


But, on the other hand, she knew deep down that he wasn't trying to be a two-bit Hollywood ripoff. He was simply being himself.

  


How did she know him well enough to know he wasn't acting?

  


She tried to convince herself that she didn't know him, never had, and never would. It didn't work. Her subconscious had been screaming at her since the very first moment she'd seen him, and she had been trying with all her might to ignore what it was telling her. She had done her best to forget that strange dream that had haunted her sleep, as well as the countless others she's managed to block out, and the startling daydreams that revealed facts of history she'd never learned in school, and words in languages she'd never spoken.

  


She refused to acknowledge, even to herself, why she had gone without a fight with the stranger. Why she had not tried to escape during the nights, when she was unguarded. Why she was so certain he would hurt her. Why she was so certain that she would never see her home again.

  


Why she was certain she would die before he allowed her to leave this strange place.

  


And, oddly enough, why the eccentric cabin was as familiar to her as Fury. She stared at it for several long moments more, vague images of the pale blue room flittering across her mind, along with a gentle whisper that was incomprehensible even in her mind.. She shook her head slightly, hoping to clear the feeling of unease that had settled across her, but to no avail. She already knew that she would feel this way, like the world might end at any moment, until she left this place. She also knew that this feeling would haunt her until her death.

  


The only uncertainty in her mind was whose hand would bring about her end, his or her own.

  


She allowed herself to be led into the monstrous cabin, and glanced around the large space idly. She finally came up with another question."Where am I staying?"

  


Fury led her deep into the house, through winding hallways and up spiraling staircases until reaching a heavy wooden doorway in what must have been intended as the attic. He opened the door, and Rain immediately recognized the pale blue room. She'd stayed here last time...

  


But there hadn't been a last time. She'd never been here before, she reminded herself. Maybe she'd seen a room like this in a movie. She must have. She wanted desperately to believe that there was nothing unusual going on, but it was a losing battle. Things were adding up, and all odds were against normalcy.

  


She just wanted to be normal. She didn't want to have memories of things she shouldn't know, or know her doom. But she could not deny the facts any longer. She had lived before, in a different era, with a different name, but the same as she was now. Her dream was really how she had died before. What she had heard whispering to her for her entire life was in fact herself, trying to warn her of the mistake that she always inevitably made. The mistake she had already made again.

  


She always spoke to Fury. Fury always responded. Then, she would be led to her death.

  


Rain looked around the pale blue room. She had never associated the color with death before, but now she wondered why she hadn't. The blue matched the spotty color she always saw after staring too intently into a light. It was the same color as frozen lips in the cruel winter, and the same color as accidental death in a sparkling, crystalline swimming pool. The same exact color of the early morning sky reflecting off an early morning river the second before the final plunge off the bridge. This color was her death.

  


No! She told herself. Fury is my death, not the color of the walls. You're going crazy. Take a nap, you'll feel better when you wake up. 

  


Rain climbed into the bed, and drifted off into an uneasy sleep. When she awoke, she found her bag sitting in the floor with a simple note telling her to unpack. She followed the instructions with the obedience of the broken, and then managed to find the way back downstairs. She managed to put together a meal from the odds and ends she found in the cabinets, then looked around downstairs. She fancied the idea of escape, but one glance into the darkness that loomed outside convinced her otherwise. If one vampire existed, surely there were more.

  


She finally found herself in the blue room. She inspected the room thoroughly, but could find no evidence of the murder she'd witnessed in her dream. It really wasn't surprising, considering how long ago it must have occurred. 

  


The next few days passed in a similar fashion. She would sleep most of the time, only leaving her room to go to the kitchen or the bathroom she found down her hall. Yes, it was her hall now. This entire floor of the monstrous cabin was completely hers, as far as she could tell. Fury would not show up here, and that made her feel secure.

  


It was never a good idea to become too comfortable in dangerous situations.

  


As Rain entered her room after a late dinner one evening, she immediately noticed Fury, who was casually leaning against the windowsill. She had only seen him in glimpses since her arrival to his home, and the sight of him in her room made her freeze just inside the doorway. 

  


"Good evening, my dear." The sound of his vice here, in the room where he'd killed her so long ago, sent a rush of new memories to Rain. They had been married, she recalled, catching the fleeting glimpse of a simple ceremony. Fury had been insanely jealous. That was why he had killed her family. He thought that she had been spending too much time with them, and not enough time with him. 

  


He'd always called her "my dear," and the girl who Rain had been thought that the nickname was wonderfully sophisticated. She recalled warm nights in front of the fire, and midnight horseback rides. She recalled many things, but never once did sunlight touch the memories. Her formal self had never had the occasion to go outside during the day, because her husband had been preparing her for an eternity of darkness. 

  


Rain fought to keep her face neutral. She might remember Fury then, but there was no telling what he might do now. He had an entire different demeanor now. Before, he had been noble, and a complete gentleman, despite his plan to turn his bride into a vampire. Now, he was a twisted version of that man, insane and ready to kill his former love in an instant. 

  


"Do you remember?" His voice cut through her thoughts, startling her.

  


"Um..." She hesitated in confessing, wondering whether he wanted her to remember or not. Her hesitation answered the question for him, though.

  


"So you do remember." His tone was gentle, pacifying. Rain felt no hesitation as she confirmed his suspicions with a simple nod. Fury gave a half-smile, then asked, "Are you afraid of me?" 

  


Rain found her voice at last. "Y-yes."

  


"Good. Come downstairs with me." It was a command, not an invitation. Rain followed Fury down to the living room, where a fire crackled merrily in the fireplace. She noticed her open duffel bag sitting in a chair near the fire, spilling clothes on to the floor.

  


"Why is my stuff down here?"

  


Fury turned to her, and said, "You need to make a clean break."

  


"But I did! Remember, no phone calls, no advance warning! You just showed up and took me, and now I'm here!" With no chance of escape, she added silently.

  


Fury refused to acknowledge her argument. She finally sighed, and when she did, a question that she hadn't known she wanted to ask slipped out. "Would you die for me?"

  


"Never, my dear." came the immediate reply. "But you knew that already."

  


Yes, she supposed that she had. The girl she had been, the one who had died so violently, had asked the same question during her fatal beating. She had received the same answer. Rain had to ask one more question. "Why did you take me?"

  


"Because I love you." 

  


Rain shook her head. "But you don't even know me!"

  


"I _knew_ you, though. That's all that matters, my dear." Fury picked up something from the couch. It was her photo album, the one she had taken with her during the kidnaping so long ago.

  


"Burn these." Fury held up the overstuffed photo album. What had she been thinking the other day? That she would give up all her memories just to be away from him? Guess she'd get to give her memories up for free. Too bad they were the pictures of her normal life, and not the horrid scenes of death in her mind. She dully pulled out a handful of photographs, and was about to pitch them into the flames when Fury stopped her.

  


"No. One at a time." Oh. This was a kind of mental torture. She tossed the first photo into the fire, trying to not see who it was of. Before the flames took the picture, though, she made out who it was of. 

  


It was her. As she watched her smiling face turn quickly to ash, the need to escape grew in her. It was like Fury had cast a spell on her, making her apathetic to her surroundings and situation, but the sight of the burning photograph broke the enchantment, and she now wanted, no, needed to get away from this terrible place.

  


She rose from her crouch by the fireplace, and took off running for the back door. She had spied a gravel trail in the woods behind there a few days ago. It had to lead to someplace better than this. Fury followed her, bellowing angrily. He reached the back door before she did, and grabbed her by the back of the neck. She let out an involuntary whimper of pain as he dragged her back to the blue room.

  


"Thought you'd get away, did you." he muttered, throwing the sobbing girl down in the corner of the room. A sharp _crack_ filled the air as she hit the edge of the windowsill, the very same one that Fury had leaned against a few minutes ago. Fury looked on in frozen anger as Rain slumped down, head lolling loosely against her chest. 

  


He didn't even have to check for a pulse. He was a vampire, and he was surrounded by death constantly. He could recognize the signs immediately. He had killed his love again. A faint stab of guilt shot through his heart, but he pushed the offensive emotion down. He had a body to bury, after all. no sense getting all caught up in emotions.

  


He picked up the warm body, and headed downstairs. Maybe he should put her near the other one, his other love that was buried in the woods. It was a beautiful place, after all, especially after the rain, when a rainbow formed over the tiny stream. Yes, his Rain would like it there. He was sure of it.

  


Two days later, Fury left his home in search of his love again. It seemed anymore that she was gone as soon as he had convinced her of who she was. He kept a sharp eye for the pale eyes and that mane of blonde hair his love always possessed, until he finally spotted her, weeks later, working in a grocery store in a tiny town. He set about sending his memories of their first time together to her, until he saw recognition in her eyes as he passed.

  


Maybe this love would last.


End file.
